


From Now On

by KeiKou9275



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bilbo almost dies, But the request was for a Bagginshield Happily Ever After Soooooooooooo, M/M, No dying for you Mr. Baggins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiKou9275/pseuds/KeiKou9275
Summary: Thorin almost loses that which is most precious to him.





	From Now On

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is for @i-can’t-carry-it-for-you on Tumblr, thank you again for helping me find that fanfic, I really appreciate it and I apologize for the wait!

 

The Battle of the Five Armies was over. Dwarves, men, and elves, along with their allies stood victorious over the Pale Orc’s hordes. The line of Durin, though bruised and battered, remained unbroken. Thorin and his nephews walked among the fallen, searching for any still living, their eyes peeled for one in particular.

Bilbo had all but vanished after defending the lives of Erebor's current and future kings, leaving all the company to fret over the halfling with Thorin worrying the most. The dwarf had yet to beg forgiveness for his actions at the gate and did not want Bilbo to believe he was thought ill of or still banished from the halls of the Lonely Mountain.

So wrapped in their search for the missing burglar were they that the dwarves didn't notice an orc drawing close, it's blade poised to strike Thorin from behind. “Thorin!” Someone cried out, causing the King Under the Mountain to turn in time to see the blade swing towards him.

Thorin blinked in shock, expecting to feel the slice of steel in his chest, instead feeling the warmth of a small hand on his chest and his vision filled with honeyed curls, the orc that had attempted to take his life laying at his feet with a small elvish blade protruding from his chest. He blinked again, his mind catching up to the moment.

“Bilbo,” he murmured, causing the halfling to turn towards him. A look of relief adorned Bilbo's face as he was about to say something, only to cough up blood. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Bilbo began to collapse. Thorin rushed to catch the little halfling before he hit the ground, his eyes widening on the wound that stretched from Bilbo's shoulder to his hip, bleeding steadily and without pause as he held Bilbo in his arms.

“You fool! Why did you save me, after all I have done?!” Thorin cried though the gentleness in his movements belied his anger as he rested Bilbo on the ground, tearing off his outer tunic and pressing it to the wound to staunch the bleeding. Bilbo cried out at the pressure, answering the dwarf king’s query in between broken gasps. “Didn’t… do a-anything… w-wrong… you weren’t w-well…” The hobbit’s voice was failing, his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion and pain. Thorin became frantic, shaking Bilbo’s uninjured shoulder to rouse the halfling. “No no no,” he said fiercely. “Stay with me, Bilbo! I can’t… I can’t lose you now! Please stay awake, the boys are fetching a healer now…”

Normally Bilbo would do anything to obey Thorin’s request but he was exhausted, the head wound he had acquired earlier making it hard to think. He tried to apologize to Thorin but all he could do was drift off, falling into the waiting arms of unconsciousness, the last thing he heard was Thorin screaming his name.

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_ At the first stirrings of awareness, Bilbo felt warm for the first time in what felt like days. Ever since he had been banished from the Lonely Mountain he had felt chilled, both physically and emotionally by Thorin’s harsh treatment. What had started off as a tenuous partnership slowly blossomed into something more; soft touches here, a longing look there. Finally, before they had made their way to Erebor Thorin had pulled Bilbo into a quiet part of Bard’s home and into a soft kiss. _

_ Bilbo was not unfamiliar with kissing, having kissed a few hobbit lasses (and lads) in his day but those had been quick pecks, nothing had prepared him when Thorin caressed his cheek like it was something precious, or the soft press of the dwarf king’s lips against his own. They had stayed like that for a few moments until Thorin had pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against Bilbo’s. The hobbit had been mildly amused to see Thorin looking about as breathless as he had felt. _

_ They had shared a bed that night (fully clothed, thank you very much!), murmuring quietly about the future and what it would hold for the two of them when all of this was over. But then came their final sojourn to the Lonely Mountain, Bilbo’s silent trek into the dragon’s lair, his frantic search for the Arkenstone, and the battle with Smaug. Then came the sickness. Bilbo had heard tell of what gold could do to the mind, had felt something similar with his ring. But Thorin’s greed was terrifying, the light from the lifeless metal contorting his once stern but kind face into one obsessed. _

_ And that look became more crazed when Thorin and the other dwarves of the company searched tirelessly for the Arkenstone. Bilbo knew that he could not reveal the stone’s location, lest he lose Thorin to the sickness forever. The hobbit knew that the dwarf he had come to know and love during their journey was still there, underneath all the gold sickness. He had seen it when Thorin had confronted Bilbo and demanded was in his hand. When Bilbo had shown him the acorn that he had collected from Beorn’s home, a look of softness and love appeared on the dwarf king’s face, bringing forth the man that Bilbo had fallen in love with, even if just for a moment. _

_ That had felt like a dream that turned into a nightmare when Thorin refused access to the hordes of gold within the halls of Erebor when the men of Lake-Town came begging for aid after the dragon had destroyed their homes. The Dragon Sickness continued to grow, even Thorin’s nephews could see that it consumed their uncle but what could they do? If they had attempted to speak reason with Thorin, he would have seen it as treason and locked any who opposed him away. _

_ Knowing that Thorin would not see reason while in the throes of sickness, Bilbo had made a desperate gamble. He had snuck out of the Lonely Mountain and approached Bard, now the leader of the men of Lake-Town and Thranduil, King of the wood elves. Thankfully Gandalf was present at the gathering as well to confirm that Bilbo’s intentions were good. And so Bilbo had offered the kings the one bargaining chip that might be able to convince Thorin to open negotiations: The Arkenstone. _

_ Against both Gandalf and the advice of the kings, Bilbo had returned to Erebor. Come what may, the halfling could not abandon his king nor the family he had built on their journey. So Bilbo had stood upon the ramparts as Bard, accompanied by Thranduil attempted to treat with Thorin once more, only to be answered by an arrow aimed at their mounts feet. The two kings had glanced at one another, both nodding slightly in acknowledgment as Bard had reached into his tunic and pulled out the Arkenstone, offering it as a trade for reparations to rebuild Dale or Lake-Town. _

_ At the sight of the Arkenstone in the hands of his enemies, Thorin had flown into a rage, demanding to know who had betrayed him. Bilbo had stepped forward, prepared to take the king’s wrath rather than see him turn on his kinsman. Bilbo had explained as calmly as he could that he had taken the Arkenstone as his share of the treasure that was promised to him. Thorin had stared at the halfling as if he was speaking another language before his face contorted in rage, rushing at the halfling and gripping his coat as he shoved him halfway over the rampart. _

_ Bilbo had gripped Thorin’s arms, his eyes filling with tears as he gazed into Thorin’s eyes, hoping to see a hint of the dwarf he once knew and had come to love, only finding darkness and madness. Bilbo knew this Thorin would toss him over the ramparts without a second thought had it not been for Gandalf intervening on his behalf and for Bofur ushering him safely down the ramparts to the company below, tears flowing freely as the mad king banished him from Erebor forevermore. _

_ Then the Dwarves of the Iron Hills had come to aid their kinsmen, only to have to turn and face Azog and his hordes of orcs. Dwarves, Elves, and Men fought side by side against this evil, fighting to survive the terrible onslaught. When Gandalf had begged Thranduil to the sent word to the Dwarves fighting on Ravenhill of an ambush the elf king had blatantly refused, stating that enough of his people’s blood had been spilled. Even knowing that he may pay for it with his life Bilbo had gone to warn them, using his ring to stay out of sight and hidden from the orcs. _

_ When he had reached Ravenhill he had taken a wrong turn but found Fili wandering the ruins, only to be ambushed by Azog himself. He had followed the group until they reached an opening, his heart stopping in his chest when he heard Thorin and Kili’s voices below. Without thinking Bilbo had taken the ring off, shouting at the Pale Orc to distract him from Fili or the other Dwarves. Unfortunately, it had worked too well, Azog had recognized him from the on the cliff. _

_ Azog had tossed Fili to the side, the Dwarf forgotten as the orc and his cronies had gone after Bilbo. The hobbit ran as fast as his feet would carry him, reaching the top of the ruin before he had put his ring back on, disappearing from sight just as the orcs emerged from the cavern. Azog had raged for a short moment when his quarry had vanished from sight until he had spotted Thorin emerging from another entrance across the frozen lake. _

_ Bilbo had remained hidden, assisting the Dwarf king whenever he could without being noticed until one of the orcs had knocked into him, sending him headfirst into a stone and unconsciousness. When he had come to the battle was over, Azog laying dead on the ice and his hordes lying dead around them or scattered to the winds. Head pounding, Bilbo had made his way down from Ravenhill relieved to find that the Company remained whole, if a little battered and bruised here and there. _

_ Seeing that his found family was safe and sound Bilbo had gone to find Gandalf, hoping that the wizard would have something for his gods' awful headache but found Thorin, Fili, and Kili wandering the battlefield as if searching for something. Bilbo had trailed behind, still remaining hidden from the Dwarves. Although he hoped, he could not forget Thorin’s words or actions at the gate, fearing that he could not handle another broken heart. _

_ But when he had seen the orc coming from behind, ready to strike Thorin down Bilbo had moved again without thinking, his ring slipping from his finger as he drew Sting once more he had shouted Thorin’s name in warning before striking the orc through the chest but not before the orc had swung his own blade across Bilbo’s chest. After that time had moved too slowly and too quickly for the halfling to comprehend. He had heard Thorin say his name, had been relieved to see that the king’s eyes were clear of madness, then he was falling and being held in Thorin’s arms. He heard the Dwarf speaking to him but couldn’t comprehend what he was asking, and then everything went dark once more, Thorin screaming his name the last thing he heard. _

Now as he drifted towards the light of consciousness he felt warmth surrounding him, and the murmuring of soft voices around him. He kept his eyes closed, listening to the voices as they spoke. “...healing quite well, given he cracked his skull and nearly being cut in half, though he will have a scar there for the rest of his life.” That would be Gandalf, which would explain why Bilbo’s head wasn’t aching as bad as before, though now he noticed the slight burning across his chest. Bloody orcs.

Bibo’s heart caught in his chest when the other person spoke. “Why won’t he wake then? It’s been almost a week, his wounds are healing!” Thorin whispered, his voice full of distress even as quiet as he was. “I can’t… Gandalf, I can’t lose him. Please, there has to be SOMETHING that you or the Elf king can do!” The halfling heard a rustling a cloth before Gandalf spoke again. “We have done everything that can be done, Thorin. The rest lies with Mr. Baggins now. However, I have found that talking helps. Even if one is unconscious or unresponsive, they are still more aware than you might think.”

The sound of steps and staff slowly drifted away, leaving everything silent for a moment before the sound of boots against stone made their way towards Bilbo. The Hobbit kept his breathing as steady as he could, though his heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. Then he felt a hand slip under his, rough with calluses earned from forge and battle but holding his hand as if it would break at the slightest touch.

“I don’t know if you can truly hear me or if that daft wizard is pulling my beard,” Thorin murmured, holding Bilbo’s hand in both of his own. “But I want you to know… I wish to take back my words and deeds at the gate. Bilbo, amrâlimê, what I did to you can never be forgiven nor can what you have done for me and my family ever be repaid but if you would let me… if you would open your eyes I would spend the whole of my life dedicated to you and your happiness. I would give up the Arkenstone and all the gold in Erebor, just to see you smile once more.”

Bilbo felt Thorin lean his forehead against his hand, felt the heat of the king’s tears as they fell from his eyes. “Menu tessu, ibinê,” the dwarf whispered brokenly. “Please, come back to me…” Unable to bear hearing his king in pain any longer Bilbo slowly opened his eyes, taking in the room he was in before resting his gaze on Thorin. His head was bowed, his eyes closed tight as he wept openly, unaware that he was being watched. Wincing slightly, Bilbo slowly turned onto his side, enough that his other hand could reach across the distance between them and rest it gently against Thorin’s cheek.

The king froze instantly at the touch, his eyes shooting open immediately. Red rimmed, storm grey eyes found tired, but awake and alive, hazel eyes. Neither spoke, Bilbo searching for the madness that had befallen his king but finding none, seeing only what had once been there before; loyalty, honor, a willing heart, and a love that knew no bounds. Knowing well and true that his Thorin had returned to him, Bilbo smiled softly as he ran his fingers through Thorin’s beard. “I won’t ask you to give up all the gold in Erebor, Melhekhull,” he rasped, his voice cracking from disuse.

Thorin remained frozen, his breaths coming short and fast as he fought to believe this was real. Bilbo sat up enough to lean his forehead against the dwarf’s, tears of relief filling the hobbit’s eyes as he finally realized that their long journey, that all they had been put through, was finally over. “Men lananubukhs me, Thorin,” Bilbo whispered. What came out of Thorin at that was a cross between a sob and a laugh, leaning forward to bring his lips to his burglar’s.

Outside the room Gandalf stood waiting in the hallway, chuckling to himself as he made his way to where the rest of the company was residing to let them know of Mr. Baggins awakening.

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Years passed in peace as tales of Erebor’s wealth and goodwill passed from corner to corner of Middle Earth. Thorin, with Bilbo remaining at his side as his consort, ruled with justice and equality as he opened trade with the men of Dale and the rebuilt Lake-Town, as well as the elves of the Woodland Realm. At Bilbo’s request, they had returned to the Shire for a short time so Bilbo could get his affairs in order. When they had arrived they had found his home and possessions being auctioned off while his less than scrupulous relatives tried to make off with what they could.

Needless to say, everything was put back in order thanks to the arrival of Bilbo, Thorin, and the retinue of armed dwarves. Once his possessions were returned Bilbo gathered the things most precious to him, wrapping the more delicate items in handkerchiefs, and storing them in the crates that they had brought with them. After much consideration, he asked Rosa and Hildigrim Took to move into Bag End and care for the property, to which both hobbits agreed to willingly and much to the chagrin of the Sackville-Bagginses.

Just before Thorin and Bilbo took their leave they were approached by Asphodel Brandybuck, with a young hobbit in tow. Asphodel introduced the little one as Frodo Baggins, the son of her late sister Primula and Drogo Baggins, explaining that Frodo’s parents were killed in a boating accident not long ago. The Brandybucks had taken young Frodo in but youngling was having trouble settling and was getting into mischief to the point where he had been beaten by a local farmer for filching mushrooms. Asphodel did not want to see her nephew come to harm but she also knew that he had the Baggins and Took blood in him, and had implored Bilbo to consider taking the young hobbit with him when they returned to Erebor.

Bilbo was saddened when he learned of his cousin’s death, remembering Drogo and Primula fondly. Knowing this was not something he could take lightly, Bilbo had discussed the matter heavily with his husband the night before they were to depart. For Thorin, the decision had been the easiest thing in the world. Although their mother still lived, Thorin had taken Fili and Kili as his own sons when their father had been killed, knowing they would need both a mother and a father to guide them.

And so on the morning of their departure, Bilbo and Thorin made their way to Asphodel’s home to speak with her and Frodo. Both Thorin and Bilbo had knelt in front of the little hobbit, each taking one of his hands into his own, asking Frodo if he would like to come and live with them. They explained that their home was far from the Shire and that they may never return but Frodo had nodded excitedly, hugging both Bilbo and Thorin before rushing off to his room to gather his things.

With young Frodo in hand, the king and his consort returned to Erebor. Fili and Kili were overjoyed to have a younger sibling to look after and get into mischief with while the others of their company that had remained at Erebor were smitten with the shy but polite little halfling. In the years to come Frodo would wander the fields around Erebor and find a simple gold ring, show it to Gandalf, who would identify it as the One Ring. The quest that followed would be long and treacherous but that is a story for another time.

  
  



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